Falling
by Lady Callista
Summary: The first time he dreams of her instead of Milah, he knows it is already too late. (set near the end of the first half of S3, hints at Captain Swan, cannon friendly)


Disclaimer: I do not in anyway own Once Upon A Time. ABC, Disney, and whoever else have that distinction. No profit is being made, and no copywrite infringement in intended.

AN: I'm introducing a friend to OUAT, and we're up to the adventures in Neverland. I wasn't writing fanfic for OUAT back then, so I never got to write anything set during this time, and now my muse really wanted to. So yeah, this happened. Hook reflecting on Milah even as he falls for Emma. Please let me know what you think, this is rather different from my other stuff.

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><p><span>Falling<span>

by Lady Callista

_OoOoOoO_

_"Falling in love again, never wanted to. What am I to do? I can't help it"_

_- from "Falling In Love Again" by Marlene Dietrich _

_OoOoOoO_

He still sometimes dreams of her, and the dreams are consumed by death. By utter despair and burning fury. By numbing terror, and by bloody vengeance.

The abject dread as he saw her heart beating in a monster's hand, the shattering of his own as she whispered her last words. The pain of losing a hand had seemed a trifle compared to the pain of losing the only woman he had ever loved.

She was the most amazing woman he had ever known, and he lost her in an instant. Because she had been too brave and adventurous herself to be able to love or respect a sniveling coward who didn't even deserve to be called a man.

Everything that had drawn him to her, everything he loved about her, and it was why she had died. She died because she loved him. Because he loved her, and dared to fight for her.

He dreams of her dead in his arms and feels as if he is dead himself.

Sometimes though, one night in a thousand nights, his dreams are kind.

She is alive, beautiful and vibrant, the wind caressing her dark locks as she stands in his arms at the rail, silent as they watch the sun rise.

He forgets that his waking self can no longer remember the exact color of her hair.

She is alive, pliant and satisfied and warmly cuddled against his side, their voices still husky as they discuss the future.

He convinces himself he still remembers the exact melody of her voice.

She is alive, charismatic and brilliant, her eyes flashing as she forces his crew to accept that she is more than just the captain's wench. So much more.

Sometimes her grey eyes have hints of blue, sometimes flecks of green, and he is no longer certain which of the two colors the years have created.

He doesn't dream of her every night, not like he did in those first weeks and months, but when he does the years in between melt away, and he feels the pain as if it were yesterday.

He also feels the joy. On that one day in a thousand days, when the seas are smooth and his subconscious is kind, he remembers the joy.

The dreams vary, but always end the same. They meet in the crows nest, holding each other as they whisper their deepest fears and insecurities. As they share jokes and fond memories. As they touch, and kiss, and make love in the moonlight.

Sometimes she is there waiting for him, sometimes he arrives first, but they are always together in the end. In his dreams they are never disturbed, though they were sometimes in real life. There is never anyone there except for the two of them.

Until one night he climbs into the crows nest and sees blonde hair.

Hazel eyes meet his and he feels his heart lurch, the shock of it causing him to wake with her name on his lips.

They have thankfully returned to the Jolly Roger for the night, so his gasp of her name vanishes into his lonely quarters rather than being heard by whoever is standing watch.

Sleep is no longer welcome, even if he could return to it, and he rises with a heavy sigh, lighting a few candles before crossing to his desk and pouring a generous measure of rum into a tankard. The burn that follows his first deep drink empties his mind for a few blissful seconds before it all comes crashing back.

He closes his eyes, trying to picture Milah's face, and once again sees only blonde hair, sees hazel eyes burning with intelligence and courage, the shadows within them showing insecurities and loneliness he is all too familiar with.

For hundreds of years he has seen only Milah, and although she has certainly grown harder to remember as the years passed, this is the first time he has been completely unable to recall her. This is the first time another woman has caught his interest in the same way she once did.

It should feel like a betrayal, yet somehow it does not. That bothers him almost more than anything else.

He only has a few days to get used to the idea that he's on that breathless gasp before the fall when the opportunity presents itself, and he gets to taste Swan for the first time.

One taste, passionate yet with hints of tenderness, long yet too short, too much yet not enough, and it simultaneously heals his heart and clamps it in a vice. Because although it's been hundreds of years, he knows this feeling, and knows that once again there is a woman who has the power to break him. And although she is an open book to him in almost every way, he is unable to read her feelings on him because she is so unsure and conflicted about them herself.

Yes, she could break his heart again, and the fear of once again experiencing that pain is a cold, snaking dread in the pit of his stomach. But of all the things he's been guilty of over his long life, cowardice has never been one of them.

So when circumstances force him to reveal his heart, he lets her see the truth in his eyes as he speaks softly, for her alone although he knows her parents can hear as well. He doesn't pressure her, or ask for anything in return, just hands her his heart and prays to all the gods that at least she'll be gentle with it. He trusts her enough to believe she will be, which in itself is almost a miracle.

He knows her default is to run, understands completely her fear of betrayal and loss, knows it will only be amplified now that Baelfire stands at her side again. He wishes he knew what she said to open the cage.

He respects her when she says she chooses Henry over either of them, and vows to give her all the time she needs. To be there for her, to remain her friend if that is all she wants, yet to always make certain she knows what she means to him, what he could be for her if she could only overcome the fear.

His own fear leaves him as he makes the decision that he is in it for the long haul, because although he knows she could break his heart, he knows something else as well.

She could heal it. She could make him as happy and complete as he once was with Milah.

For the first time in what feels like forever, he has hope, and he knows that having a chance at love again is worth risking anything.

The night he truly lets himself believe this, he dreams of Milah for the last time.

And he finally says goodbye.

Now his dreams are filled with blond hair he knows the exact shade of and hopes to one day run his fingers through again. Now the eyes that meet his are hazel, and at least in dreams burn with the same love and devotion that he feels for her.

And when he wakes, it isn't with remembered pain or joy. He doesn't have to force himself back to reality, to remember that it's all in the past.

Now he awakens with hope for the future and reflects on his dreams, on his heart's wishes, with a steadily growing hope that one day they will come true.

For the first time since he lost Milah, all of his dreams are kind.

THE END


End file.
